I'll Be Seeing You
by TryingToFindTime
Summary: "Where the hell am I?" A soldier wakes up from a battle, only to find himself in an unfamiliar place, and an unfamiliar body; and he isn't the only one. Things get even weirder when he and his new friends discover a town unlike any other. But why are they here? And how will they get back home? An HTF Origin story.
1. Chapter 1

**A wild origin story appeared! **

_Oh Christ…_

The soldier stirred a little, his feet pushing against the soft turf around him. He was laying on…dirt? He forced his eyes open, only to recoil away from the brightness of the outside world. The abrupt change sent a deep throbbing pain up his spine and to his head.

He clutched his brow and moaned, "Goddamn headache…"

Once the soldier had adjusted to the change of light, he took the time to observe his current surroundings. The sky was a deep, optimistic shade of azure. He took a moment to watch a few birds fly by while he prepared himself for a more upright position. Pulling himself into a sit, he looked about and noted that he was in a forest. His senses were immediately bombarded with the sounds of buzzing, bird calls, and somewhere, a babbling brook.

"What the hell?" he barked, "Where am I?"

The last thing the soldier could remember was the feeling of his insides wanting the cave in on themselves, and the swift plop of his body hitting the cot of a field hospital. He remembered the sound of groaning, and the smell of rubbing alcohol, not fluttering bluejays and fresh air. Not that he was complaining.

The brook beckoned him as he realized a sudden thirst, and so he slowly lifted himself off of the ground with a bit of a wobble, which he soon righted. He then began the toil of following the brooks' seductive calls, all the while feeling the burn in his throat and the weakness in his knees.

_What the hell happened?_ The soldier thought to himself as he walked. _Wasn't I taken to a hospital and bandaged up? I must be dreaming._ He shook his head discontentedly. _What happened to Sneaks and Kaboom and the others? _Suddenly it came to him, and the memory stung his heart with the ferocity of a bullwhip.

They were gone.

Gone. Dead. Lost in Action. And it was his fault.

He paused and hung his head low. His comrades, (who went by their codenames), had been on a mission with him to infiltrate the enemy base, only to completely and utterly ruin everything with his incompetence. Sneaks and Kaboom, the stealth master and the demoman, they had been his only friends, and the only flame he could warm himself by in the chill of the war.

He could not remember how he had managed to survive, only the feeling of sheer terror as he heard the enemy troops closing in on his hiding place, and then darkness. He woke up later in an airborne stretcher, a searing pain in his side and hands. Sleep must have eventually come to him, he supposed.

He decided to drink before taking the time to mourn their deaths, and continued halfheartedly on his way to quench his thirst. After what seemed like a century and a half, the downtrodden soldier had located the brook and it chattered excitedly at his arrival. Taking care not to slip, he eased himself by the water's edge and rolled up his sleeves, eager to drink the pristine liquid.

He dipped his hands into the water and abruptly stopped, almost not believing his own eyes. He took a moment to blink rapidly, trying to block out the sight, or write it off as a hallucination. When it did not go away, he swiftly tore his hands out of the water and gaped out them in horror.

In place of his hands were a pair of furry, light-green paws.

**Shitty short chapter, but at least I managed to spit this out while I still had the motivation to write. **

**So yup, the story is told in third person, but more or less from Flippys point of view. As we meet more and more of the characters, I intend to sprinkle in backstories about their past lives, and what brought them to happy tree. **

**Any feedback is good feedback! Thanks for reading. **


	2. Chapter 2

The soldier fought back a few yelps of terror and perplexity as he inspected himself in the reflection of the water. His whole body was covered in a layer of spring-green fur, which was soft to the touch. His hands and feet had transformed into a strange sort of ambidextrous set of paws, and flexing them, he found that they lacked pads. As the brook ceased quivering, he took in more of his facial features. Round ears rested atop his head, those would take some getting used to. His little pink nose twitched at the realization that he also had a tail, which he managed with great effort to wiggle. In short, the fellow had discovered much to his chagrin, that he had become a teddy bear.

"This isn't happening." The soldier croaked, "This isn't possible."

Another wave of horror washed over him as he realized that he was quite naked, and he instinctively tried to cover his nude body. Only when he remembered that he was an animal now did he reluctantly allow himself to stand unconcealed.

"Good lord!" He squealed, confused and quite frankly terrified. He pinched himself multiple times, just to make sure he wasn't dreaming. They had no effect.

_Well, if I am dreaming,_ the teddy soldier pondered, _it looks like I won't be waking up anytime soon. _

"Frick!"

The bear turned at the sudden utterance of a phrase. It sounded like it came from behind a patch of bushes to his right, and he followed the direction of the noise, taking care not to hit his head or entangle himself in the creepers at his feet.

After catching wind of the voice a few more times, he finally came to a small clearing which dipped down into a ditch. At the foot of this ditch, belly-down, was a rather frustrated beaver, which seemed to be attempting to stand, and having a heck of a time doing so. "Frick! Hell!" The beaver was attempting to gain some traction on the soles of his feet, but the angle and crumble of the ground around him was making the task a difficult one.

"Need a hand?" said the bear, easing himself into the ditch with practiced feet. The beaver, startled by the sound of another voice, whipped his head up as high as he could to get a good look at the individual. He seemed slightly terror stricken at the sight of the bear, until a sense of understanding took hold of him. It flashed over his face briefly, and then he frowned, as if to say, "Ah yes, of course. I forgot that things are weird around here. Talking bears, why not?

"I don't need any help." mumbled the beaver, trying once again to push himself upright with his feet.

"You know, you might have an easier time getting up if you used your hands too." replied the soldier earnestly. He recoiled when the beaver shot him a deadly glare.

"Get lost. I've had a bad enough day without getting made fun of."

"I don't understand." said the green bear, cocking his head to the side.

The beaver started to say something unpleasant, but instead took a few deep breaths and rolled on his side, revealing a pair of twisted, handless arms.

The bear withheld a gasp and sputtered out, "Oh god, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were an inva-"

Before he could finish the beaver snapped at him. "Shut it! Just leave me be!" He stirred again, trying to stand up. "I don't want your help. Just leave me alone."

"I'm really sorry. It's just that you're the first person-er, well, you know, that I've seen since…"

Another glare was thrown at him. He went silent and turned away, scaling the ditch and pausing to look back at the beaver again. He was still cursing, trying with all his might to stand up on his own. Whenever he lifted a foot to dig into the side of the ditch, the crumbling sand simply rolled out from under him, putting him right back where he started. The creature was agitated, but desperate to help himself up. The soldier marveled at his persistence, but couldn't help but feel intensely sorry for him.

The beaver suddenly felt a pair of paws wrapping around his furry ankles and he whipped around to face his assailant. The bear was there, giving him a small smile of recognition. The beaver was furious, and he struggled to free himself from the teddys' grasp.

"Let go! I said let go and get lost!" The bear simply maintained his hold on the angry beaver and began to pull, slowly but gently dragging the animal up the ditch and towards flatter ground.

"I said let go of me! Don't lift me up or nothin'"!

"I'm not." said the bear, "I'm just getting you off of that slope; you'll never be able to get up at that angle."

"Shut up! My angle is none of your business."

"Don't be so stubborn."

The beaver was agape with shock at the strangers' audacity. "Put me down or I swear I'll-"

"Yes, that's right." said the bear, "Just keep thinking of all the things you'll do to me after you manage to stand up. You'll be welcome to do them once you're on your feet."

The beaver was silent after that. In a jiffy the bear had him on a flat patch of hardened sand above the ditch and said, "There, now you'll have a better time." And then he walked over to a nearby rock and plopped himself down on it to rest. "And once you're finished standing up, I'll be waiting right here for you to do terrible things to me for helping you out of a ditch."

The beaver stared at him in disbelief from the corner of his eye and sighed. After a while of self-reflection, he used the last of his strength to pull himself up on wobbly legs, which proved to be a much easier task on the hard, flat ground. He thrust out his stubby arms instinctively to keep his balance, but they did little. When he had at last righted himself, he turned to the bear, who was watching him through expectant eyes.

"…Thanks." was all the beaver could manage to bring himself to say, and he muttered it such that the soldier was not positive he had even heard it, but it had been there.

"Don't mention it. I'm assuming you're in the same boat as I am?"

The beaver paused to think for a moment before responding. "Fuzzy memory? Fuzzy body? Yeah. I guess you could say that." He stopped for a moment to kick a pebble. "I thought I was dreaming."

"Guess not." answered the bear with a smidge of uncertainty. "The whole thing's freaking me out to be honest."

The beaver only nodded, a frown tugging at his lips. They were both silent for a while.

"You thirsty?" asked the bear, brightening slightly. "There's a brook not too far from here."

"I guess so." said the beaver. He was actually quite parched from all of the struggling he had been doing, but he did his best to conceal his eagerness for water.

They started back through the bushes and trees, the bear listening for the sound of the flowing substance. "So, what do they call you?" he asked the beaver.

The brown creature didn't answer right away, as if he were searching deep inside his mind for the answer to that question. "You know what," he started, "I can't remember."

It suddenly occurred to the soldier that he couldn't seem to remember his own name either. He could remember almost everything else; what his parents looked like, what his favorite food was. He remembered that he had a pitbull back home named molly. He could recall what his home looked like, how he had left it to join the war effort, how he trained for battle. Despite all of these things and more, he could not seem to conjure up his name. The bear sighed.

"I guess that makes two of us."

**Man I've got inspiration out the fucking wazoo for these stupid thing. I think this is the fastest I've ever finished a chapter, although it is pretty short, but that was always normal for me anyway.**

**So we got to meet Handy in this chapter! He's a bit of a grump. And yup, you guessed it; none of them can remember their human names.**

**Thanks for reading, and stay tuned! **


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